What a bird told me
by Clove1113
Summary: She told me not to give up, but why? Giving up is so much easier.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

I walk confidently over to the 18 year old girls section, my fiery orange dress drawing me attention so even if I weren't district two's selected volunteer, people would definitely notice me. I lift the rope and stand towards the front of the enclosure, next to some other girls from the training center, Jage and Serosa. The mayor steps up to the stage and reads the treaty of treason. I block it out and think about everything and nothing. I think of how I will hold my sword in the games, how to throw a knife with deadly accuracy. I recall my mother, how she told me not to volunteer. How I am doing directly what she told me not to do. The sound of a girl's name being pulled from the reaping bowl snap's me out of my reverie and I realize I've missed the mail reaping. Who cares, I already know that Owatheese Irran is the other tribute.

"Lashli Sanvon!" I don't care what my mother said, I will bring pride to my district. I will!

"I volunteer!" I shout with confidence from the girls section. No one will challenge me now, I won the spot to volunteer fair and square and they all know it.

I shove my way through the crowd, shouldering people aside as I go. I step up on the stage.

"Dear, what be your name?" Our escort Carry Mebabe asks. What is this, Shakespeare? She could have just asked 'what's your name' but who cares.

"Lyme Soriova." I reply calmly but curtly.

"Well, District Two, meet your tributes! Lyme Soriova and Owatheese Irran!"

The cheers are deafening, for the whole of my district know that I am one of the best fighters here. Owatheese is good, but unlike me, he doesn't like to kill; which will be his downfall. And anyway, if it comes down to it, I know I could take him in a fight.

I take a step forward to shake hands, the required gesture. He squeezes my hand as hard as he can without breaking my bones, but I don't flinch. He'll have to do better than that. As the anthem blares we send each other the stereotypical District Two death glare.

The peacekeepers lead us off stage, grabbing Owatheese's wrist, and trying to grab mine. I lash out instinctively and send one flying. Thank god we're off stage and the cameras didn't catch that.

"Don't touch me." I snap.

The other peacekeeper designated to me simply shrugs his shoulders and beckons me into a small yet lavishly decorated room and closes the door.

The surroundings are beautiful in the Justice Building of District Two, I'll give them that. The couch is a pure white material that coils around two walls of the room, and the chairs opposite are shaped like thrones. When I sit on the sofa, it feels like I'm sitting on a cloud. My trainer is the first, and only, person who comes to see me. Though he is a victor, he will not be my mentor.

"Well, Soriova, don't fail me now girl." Though his words are serious, I don't miss the slight smile I get.

"It's not about you anymore, but I'll win, that's obvious."

"Don't-"

"Underestimate your competitors. I know." This lecture has been drilled into me for the past 4 years of my life. Ever since I turned 14 and was sent to the training center in district two.

"And take this." He tosses me a bronze colored metal box. "Your mother gave it to me to wear into my games years ago, and she wore it into hers as well." My mother was a hunger games victor herself, and as soon as she returned home, she had a child with someone in the capitol. She never loved him though. That was all she would ever tell me about my father. That she never loved him, that she loved someone else. And when I open the box, I know who. She loved my mentor.

"Why?"

"Because you didn't have a district token. Why do you think?"

"No. Why didn't you tell me?" I say.

"That I-" He trails off.

"That you loved her."

He takes a deep breath before continuing. "Because President Snow told her that he would kill you if she kept seeing me."

"Are you telling me that I'm your child?" I don't even try to hide the shock and disbelief in my voice and expression. I mean, everyone in district two basically has olive skin and black hair, except for the few exceptions, so I guess it's possible.

"No stupid. But that's another story. I have to go. Good luck, Cherry Girl."

I simply stare as my mentor leaves the room. Then I pick up the orange cherry shaped pendent and fasten it around my neck. I haven't been called 'Cherry Girl' since my mother died four years ago. This, beyond anything else, shocks me to the core of my very being.

"Your last visitor." Another visitor? I certainly didn't expect that.

"Lyme!" The girl who has become somewhere between annoying apprentice and sweet little sister bounces in. I knew she would want to come to see me, but I never imagined that her official mentor would allow her to.

"Finch? How did you get here?"

"Ways and means, L."

I burst out laughing at that. "So I take it you snuck out then? I'd feel honored, but you always sneak out, so-"

"And yada, yada, yada." She sits down and lays her head in my lap. If anyone else did that, I'd be shocked, but this is Finch, and she does this often. I'm a fierce career, but to this child, I am her only family, as she is mine. I instinctively stroke her dark hair away from her pale forehead.

"I'll be okay."

"Promise?" Usually she looks years older than her age of 12, but when she says that, she for once looks innocent.

"Promise."

"Only one minute left now ladies!"

We sit there like that for almost a minute. Then I lift her up onto her feet and squeeze her shoulders. "Be careful. Promise me you'll be careful. District two is dangerous, you know that. I don't want to come back to see you dead and buried, Finch." I say.

"Promise. But if you break your promise, then I'll break mine."

"No-"

"Out." The peacekeeper drags Finch out without another word. Finch is one of the fiercest trainees in the whole of District Two, and I know if it weren't for her fear of them taking it out on me, she would shred that man in a single heartbeat. Finch is sweet to me, but she's a ruthless career to every single other person in the whole district. I remember when she was just 9, we were practicing with archery, my absolute worst weapon, and I missed the whole target. Then some boy was laughing at that, and Finch through a knife into his shoulder. I protect her, she protects me. Yes, I can throw knives with slightly more accuracy, sword fight a little better, but she is the best fighter in her year, and so am I.

"Ms. Soriova, please follow me." A peacekeeper beckons me insistently from the door.

I see no point in arguing, so for once, I obey. The peacekeeper literally marches down the hallway, and I remember as a child in Gym class, having to do high knees. I wonder if the peacekeeper is doing that same exercise.

As soon as I step outside all memories of my gym class are immediately whipped from my mind.

"Lyme! How do you feel about being a tribute today?"

"Lyme! Why did you volunteer?"

"Lyme! Over here!"

"Smile for the camera's! Lyme!"

"Lyme! Lyme! Lyme! Lyme! Lyme!" Ug! Can they just shut up?

I don't even glance at the camera's or reporters as I pass. I'm not a glamor queen from District One; if they came to my district, they should know that I will not be batting my eyelashes and waving at them.

As we reach the train station, it's a real struggle to stop myself from sprinting as fast as I can to get away from the cameras. Then I remember the nightmare that the train ride will undoubtedly be, and that helps me walk slowly to the train beside Owatheese. I easily leap on to the train and still without looking at the crowd, move into the first carriage I can find. It turns out to be a television room, and I sit on a chair, crossing my legs. Owatheese follows me and sits across from me in an identical armchair.

"Do you even want to be here?" I ask.

"Well, do you mean as a tribute in the games or sitting in the same room as you?" I forgot how literal he can be and I scowl at him.

"Both."

"Then no."

"Then why did you volunteer?"

"Why do you care? It doesn't matter, it's done!"

"I don't know? Just spit it out."

"Are you trying to figure out my weaknesses?"

"Owatheese" I practically growl. "I've had the misfortune of training with you for the past 4 years, I already know them!"

"Then fine! If you really want to know, I volunteered to get revenge on you!"

"And what have I ever done to earn your hatred, not that I mind…"

"What have you ever done?" He's shouting now. "You killed her!"

"Who?" I say blankly.

"Abbi!"

"Abbi? Why would you care?"

"Why do you think? I loved her." He says with bitter anger in his voice.

Then it clicks. He loved the girl I killed in front of the whole district. First my mentor, now Owatheese, how many love confessions am I going to hear today?

"Why didn't you just fight me in the training center then?"

"Because I want the whole of Panem to see the light fade from your eyes."

"So now you like to kill?"

"I never like to kill. I just like to kill you, Lyme Soriova."

"You can try, see if you can."

"Don't worry, I'll succeed."

We sit there in silence until the two mentors for the forty-sixth Hunger Games enter the room.

"If you didn't know, I am Phivy, and he is Lero." I recognize Phivy, she won the year I entered the training center, which means she must be 22 now. Lero won about 10 or 12 years ago, I have a vague recollection of watching his games with my mother.

"You forgot about me, little dearests!" Cary Mebabe walks in with heels that are over six inches high. "I'm Carry! But, I keep forgetting, I'm famous so you already knew that!" She lets out a high pitched laugh. Ha…Ha…Ha. That was so funny.

"Hi, I'm Owatheese." Owatheese says tentatively.

"Lyme." I sound sickly sweet and sarcastic as I continue. "But you were at the reaping so you already knew that."

If she noticed my tone, which I highly doubt she did, she doesn't show it. "Yep, Lyme Soriova!"

"Yeah. I'm actually surprised that your air filled brain remembered that. You're certainly not known for your intelligence-" Phivy says to our escort.

"The reaping review is on. Let us go there." It's a real effort to stop from bursting out in laughter as I watch Phivy give both the escort and Lero a death glare that almost rivals mine. Judging by Lero's expression, Phivy and Carry don't get on well.

Owatheese and I watch in silence and dutifully get up to follow our mentors out of the room.

"This is the television room." It was just a bit unnecessary for our escort to say that. All that's in the room is a huge screen, and a long couch and armchairs to watch it from.

"Welcome! Welcome!" Yeah hi. I reply silently to the bright purple presenter on the screen. "To the reaping for the forty-sixth annual Hunger Games!"

Phivy sits up a little straighter as the words district one flash up on the screen, and I remember that her closest ally was from here. The wide well paved roads make the place I have grown up in look like a dump. As the escort, a man with paws for hands, climbs the stage, Phivy's eyes scan the screen frantically and then she relaxes. I wonder what that was all about? I'm guessing Lero knows, judging as how his eyes follow the girl who I now remember was his apprentice in the training center. But I also guess that it's none of my business.

The girl who volunteers is slightly shorter than me, maybe 5-9 or so. She has hip-length silvery blond hair, and almost purple blue eyes. Her eyes reveal hope, surprise, and something that's a lot harder to read. Regret? I guess I'll never know, and frankly does it really matter? The caption under her picture reads:

Name: Violet Cocova—Age: 16—Height: 5-8—Weight: 136 Lbs.—District 1—Female.

I guess she's 4 inches shorter than me, and 12 pounds lighter.

Her district partner's face is a lot easier to read. Pride, arrogance and bloodthirstiness show on it. The caption reads:

Name: Arro Betson—Age: 18—Height 5-11—Weight 190 Lbs.—District 1—male.

I watch my reaping and notice Owatheese's caption:

Name: Owatheese Irran—Age: 18—Height: 6-2.

I stop reading the captions after that, noticing only that all the others, even district four, are under 15 and look like helpless children.

"District 4 are out." Owatheese decides instantly.

"And district 1?" Asks Phivy.

"There girl looks strong enough, I guess they can join the group." I reply.

"You have got to be kidding me. The girl looks like a good gust of wind could blow her over." Owatheese sneers. "But the boy looks good."

"You have no idea how strong or not the girl is from her height and stature!" Phivy leaps to her feet and before anyone else can move has a knife pressed to Owatheese's throat.

"AHHH! Help! Help!" Cary screams putting her shiny white painted hands over her mouth.

"Phivy! For once can you not kill anyone?" Lero reaches out and plucks his old apprentice off of Owatheese, ignoring the silvery dagger in her hand, and shoves her back in the direction of her armchair.

I wonder what caused that reaction. I mean, yes, Phivy is relatively small, 5-5 or so, but the whole district knows that she is an amazing fighter. Owatheese looks rather shaken and leaves shortly after, Carry showing him the way to his room. Phivy and Lero seem to be having some kind of silent conversation, judging by the looks they're sending each other. I decide to leave them to it and follow Carry out of the room as well.

"Why did you paint your hands white?" Owatheese is asking bluntly as I reach them.

"I didn't, they're not white silly, the color is called alabaster." She says almost seductively, waving them around her head to emphasize her point.

Me and my district partner swop a bemused glance before our escort opens a red door and pushes Owatheese inside.

She leads me to the room across from Owatheese, opens the orange painted door and promptly leaves, calling something over her shoulder about having to watch her favorite show, about how to get a guy. Awkward, I say to myself.

As I take a step into the room, I have to reach out and touch something to make sure it's real. The bed is a work of art. Lemmon yellow sheets, with pale pink pillows. It's certainly not my kind of thing, but I'm not going to complain. I open the closet, looking for something to wear to bed, and find not a rack of clothes, but a wall of buttons. I push a random one, thinking that it might open like a cubby hole, even though the buttons are about a square inch. I jump back in surprise as a tight golden orange skirt and black tank top are forced on me by a pair of robotic arms. I carefully approach the wall of buttons again. I notice for the first time that the buttons have pictures on them. I press one with a simple black nightgown, and yet again, I leap back as I feel the previous outfit ripped off of me and the new thrown on with speed and ferocity that nearly matches my own.

I gingerly touch the soft material, and satisfied that it won't injure me, head over to the luxuriously comfortable bed.

I pull the fleece blankets up to my chin and think of a happier time. I imagine that I am a seven year old little girl, whose mother tucks her in and sings her a song. I even remember how I would always make her sing me this certain song. And I can almost feel her sitting there, beside me, as her words run through my head, the words that later, I repeated to Finch.

In a land far, far, from here,

A time far, far, from here,

Ware the mists were gold.

And the rain when it came,

Was in sugar drops.

Ware tears came from laughter,

And not crying.

I know it's not here.

Yes trust me I know.

But remember,

It is somewhere.

It is somewhere.

With the thought of the two people I love most in the world, my dead mother, and my adopted little sister, I let my eyes close. I let myself slip into the most peaceful place I've been for four long years. Into sleep, without dreams.

Authors note: And there it is. I finally finished it. I tried to make Finch come across as sweet to Lyme, but a true career to everyone else. I will be developing Owatheese's personality a bit more over the next few chapters, because right now he's just a person with a story but no personality. I won't be revealing a lot about Lyme's mentor and her mother until the games are over, but if you P.M. me I'll tell you what happens. I will also be telling you about Phivy's ally in the next few chapters, but I've had enough writing love scenes so, no they were not star-crossed lovers. Sorry, but no. Okay, I can't promise regular updates because this chapter took ages to write, but I'll try! Please review, I worked really hard on this and I'd love to hear what you think about it. For my readers of 'prim um' I haven't forgotten you, just I'm writing this at the same time. Hope you don't mind. Also, my friend is helping me with this, so she wrote the emotional stuff because I'm not good at that sort of thing. All credit for the sappy bits go to her. (See, I told you I'd mention you. Told you so.) And sorry for the really really long Authors note… I'll stop now…Bye…

/Gia


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"Uppity, up, up, up!" The high pitched voice of my escort, Carry, wakes me from my peaceful slumber.

"In a minute." I reply through gritted teeth.

"We don't have a single minute to waste, Honey!"

"I'm getting up, just cool it."

"Manners! I'll see you soon, Sweets."

Really, one minute she's telling me to watch my manners, and the next she's calling me 'sweets? I drag myself out of bed; despite the training starting at dawn in district 2, I've never been a morning person. I glance down the wall of buttons, realizing that the t-shirt and leggings that I wear to training are nowhere to be seen. Do the Capitol people wear nothing but evening gowns?

Eventually, I settle on a green pair of pants and a black short sleeved blouse. At home, this would be completely over the top fancy, but this is the train to the capitol, and I guess this would be casual for them. I pull my hair back into a ponytail and walk down the hallway to the dining room.

As I enter the room, I notice that Phivy and Lero are having one of their frequent silent conversations. They stop and look at me as I enter.

"We'll be arriving in the capitol in just over an hour! Aren't you all so excited to see your prep teams?" Carry doesn't even stop her babbling to take a breath and so starts panting profusely once she falls silent.

"Nope," Phivy pops the p just to annoy Carry. "Not in a million years would I look forward to seeing my freak team." She finishes, smirking smugly at the distraught expression on Carry's face.

"They're not freaks!" Carry's hands fly to her heart and she sinks down at the breakfast table, as if she can't hold her wait anymore. I'm starting to like Phivy more and more every second.

Owatheese strolls in, not even noticing how me, Phivy, and Lero are holding in hysterical laughter. He sits down and without waiting for the rest of us, he shovels a hardboiled egg in his mouth whole. Sure, I do hate Owatheese, but at that moment, the look on Carry's face is so priceless that I realize that Owatheese can't be all bad.

"Don't choke yourself to death on that egg." Lero says sitting down across from my district partner.

"I don't know, I personally wouldn't mind if he choked to death." Phivy clearly hasn't forgiven him for his remark about the district one girl then.

Owatheese glares at her, but still chewing the egg is unable to reply. Lero glances at her, a mixture of amusement and irritation showing clearly on his face.

"Owatheese, aren't you excited to meet your stylist?" Carry is clearly trying to make small talk.

"Yeah." Owatheese doesn't look at her.

"And Lyme? Girls always love there makeup, I'm sure you do too."

"Your assurances are proven wrong then." I say coolly.

"But-" Carry starts.

"But can you ever just shut up?" Phivy snaps. "This, that, that, this! I'm sick and tired of the sound of your voice!"

"That is bad manners! What will the Capitol think?"

"That I'm not their plaything!"

"What do you mean?" I ask, surprised.

"It doesn't matter. Be quiet and eat breakfast, we will be in the capitol soon, and like it or not, you should make a good impression." I have a feeling that Lero is the voice of reason in this group, so I fall silent.

Owatheese does to, probably for the simple reason that he has nothing to say, Carry's probably too scared of Lero to go against what he says, and Phivy glares at him. I don't know what she meant, but I have a feeling that Lero's warning wasn't in vain, and Phivy is wise to keep her mouth shut about such things. The object of my silent musing's must have come to the same conclusion, for she doesn't bring up the topic again.

After a while, Carry and Owatheese start up an awkward conversation about the Capitol. I eat the gourmet food in silence, spreading a chocolate flavored jam on my thick slice of bread. I eat two thick slices of cake. I try to make it last, but end up just shoveling the whole thing in my mouth. Carry breaks off her conversation with my district partner to scold me, before starting it back up again, to Owatheese's great disappointment. Phivy shifts her wait every so often and fiddles with the knife on her plate. She never sits perfectly still, and I get the feeling that she's nervous about something. Lero hides it better than Phivy, but I can see his unease as his eyes flick all around the carriage and he rubs his thumb and forefinger together.

At this point Carry leaps to her feet and dashes around the table, checking her watch as she goes. She presses her nose to the glass.

"Look, in precisely 31 seconds you will be able to see the city!" She shrieks in such a high pitched voice that I have to stop myself from cringing away from her. I do want to see the city, so I follow her and Owatheese's lead and stand by the window. Phivy and Lero don't get up, and I just register that they're having another silent conversation, a habit of theirs, I'd guess.

As soon as I look back to the window, as baffled by what they're telling each other through looks as ever, I realize that seeing the Capitol on T.V. could have never prepared me for the reality of it. The colors and lights take my breath away. There are structures made of what looks like pure gold, and buildings rapped in snakeskin. The ground is covered in tiles of every color, that hurt my eyes to look at. But the truly bazaar thing is the people; if I thought that the landscape was crazy, then the people are out of this world. I guess in a sense they are out of this world. The world where people are tortured and killed for the smallest of offences, and I don't just mean by the peacekeepers, though I have watched them kill and torcher enough people. No I mean the people I grew up with. My fellow trainees have all claimed many a life. Jage, one of the few girls I actually respected, has a kill list that is over 30 people long. She's not proud of it, but the world we all grew up in is the way it is. We can't change it, so we must change to adapt to it ourselves. It's not fair that the people in the Capitol don't have to face the same life that me, Finch, Jage, my mentor, Owatheese and my mother all have, or had to face. I know they can't help it, I know some of them probably have lives as dangerous as mine, though in different ways, but I hate them for having a life I could only dream of living.

Carry's voice yanks me back to reality, and I realize that I've been standing here for quite a while.

"The capitol is the most beautiful place on earth isn't it?"

"Mhm," I want to say that the most beautiful thing on earth is the blade of a knife, embedded in a target. But I don't, for, the capitol is beautiful in its way, and that remark would only bring me trouble.

"Lyme, Owatheese. We're nearly here." Phivy says in an emotionless manner.

"Can you wait? I'm so excited to be back!" Carry shrills, dabbing her makeup on, like she didn't have enough on already.

"I couldn't tell." Phivy mutters under her breath. "You've certainly been away a long time." I have to strain to pick her words up and the sarcasm is so present that if she spoke louder perhaps even our dunce of an Escort would have noticed it. However, Carry was just a bit far away, and if she were closer, I doubt she would have been bothered to listen to a woman, who judging by her behavior, Carry thinks of as beneath herself. Lero looks up briefly to glare at Phivy, before dropping her gaze quickly, as if he can't bear to look at her.

"We're here…we're here…we're here!" Carry trills jumping up and down higher than I thought her heels would allow her to.

"Yay! I haven't been here in quite a while." Phivy says with excitement that almost matches our blood-red haired companion.

At first, it seems as if she's excited to be in the capitol, but when I look closer, I can see that she's doing all she can to hide her feelings. Suggesting that her excitement came from the fact that she hasn't been here rather than the fact that she's back.

"That's the spirit Cupcake!" Carry pats Phivy lightly and delicately on the head.

Both Phivy's and Lero's muscles tense to the point where I think they might attack Carry at her touch, but as our escort retracts her hand, they slowly relax.

I stride from the dining hall, to the train doors and wait to see what to do next. Turns out I don't have to wait long, for at that moment, Lero presses a button and slides the doors open. I am not even kidding when I say that the cheers of the crowd hurt my ears. The women, with shrill voices as it is, scream as loudly as possible and I have to work hard not to raise my hands to my ears. Just as I did when we walked to the train station, I stare emotionlessly forward like a robot without giving the reporters who frantically screech my name a single glance.

Phivy moves up beside me "I take it your angle is emotionless and fearless?" She turns her head very slightly to talk to me, her golden brown ponytail bouncing as she does. I don't miss how the men look at her, like a person who lulls a cat closer, only to hit it with a stick.

You might think I'm being a hypocrite, when I myself have hit many with sticks, or more precisely weapons; but I have never lulled anyone into a false sense of security only to turn on them. I glance down at Phivy, noticing not for the first time how much shorter and less muscular she is in comparison to me. She looks as if she's forgotten about her question and is frantically looking this way and that, like she wants to run away, but she's not sure where to go.

I wonder what makes her so on-guard all the time. I've noticed that Lero is as well, but not to the extent that the young woman who stands next to me is. As soon as a capitol guard opens the door for us, bowing to Carry, and not even looking at the rest of the party, both my mentors practically sprint inside.

As soon as I look around, I recognize the inside of the building from the T.V. programs I've watched. The tiles are patterned in shapes like cut jewels. Phivy leads both me and my district partner to a door marked with the number 2, and Lero heads towards the elevator.

"Lyme, right hand side. Owatheese, left." She sounds clipped and emotionless as she speaks, reminding me of how she acted in her games.

She won on skill, not strength. Everyone in the Capitol thought that she was to small, to pretty to stand a chance. But she wasn't, and the whole of my district knew that she would be a victor. She cut through her games in just over a week, joining the career pack until there were no other tributes left. While the others fought, Phivy simply climbed a tree and killed them all with several well aimed throwing knives. Well, all but one. The girl from district 1, Claire Vencova. The girl who was Phivy's closest ally through the games. They fought for over 7 hours, both not wanting to kill the other, but not wanting to kill themselves either. Eventually, Phivy war her opponent down so it was all Claire could do not to drop dead of tiredness. Phivy killed her then, and I know that she regretted it then and still does now.

I haven't forgotten the words she spoke to the girl that somehow became her friend even as she lay dying at my district girl's feet.

"Run free,

dance like the branches of a willow tree,

for inside, you are much more beautiful than me." I don't know where she came up with her words, but ever since she was crowned victor, they have become traditional to say at the funeral of a loved one.

I can't even comprehend how she must have felt at the time, lonely, ashamed and full of grief. I can't imagined how awful it would make me feel, to kill someone who I respected that much. Does your sword cut their throat as easily as it cut another's? Do you have doubts, go easy on your adversary? Or with her life on the line did both girls fight as best as they could, friendship or not.

"Lyme! Where are you? On Jupiter?" Phivy taps my shoulder sharply.

"No, I'm on earth."

"You are? Really?"

"You bet I am." We both smile and I open the door that Phivy motions to.

"Hi! Hi! You must be Lyme!" Three women dart forward and hug me like an old friend.

"It's so cool to meet you!"

"Aren't you excited?"

"Yes, what's your names?" I try hoping that this is the answer they were looking for.

"I'm Cherryblossom, this is Lambey and she over there is the head of the prep team, Lady Gaga!" She says this all so quickly that it takes me a full five seconds to register what she's saying.

"Oh. Uh, hi all of you guys." I say, mortified that for once I can't think of anything to say.

"Okay, if you could just put this robe on." Lambey says holding out a sheer silken garment.

"Sure… Why?"

"Just so we can get a look at you. You know?" Cherryblossom articulates quickly.

"Okay….Where do I change?"

"Here?" Lambey suggests.

"Yeah right." I stalk over to the only semi-private place I can see, which in all honesty isn't very private. I yank the curtains shut behind me and change quickly. The robe is really revealing, I glare at the thing through the mirror on the wall. As I walk back towards the three women I self-consciously cross my arms across my chest. This is unbearably awkward. Unfortunately, the torcher has just begun.

They circle me like hungry wolves, brushing all my scars.

How did you get the scars on your cheek?" Gaga demands rudely.

"I was attacked by a polar bear in my Jacuzzi." I lie flawlessly.

"There was a bear in your Jacuzzi?" Lambey exclaims.

"No, I got thrown through a glass window, but the expression's on your faces were so priceless…"

"That's not funny! I already messaged my contractor to put bear repellent in my water!" Cherryblossom taps me sharply on the nose.

"Sorry?" I respond, not feeling at all apologetic.

"Np, baby bread, Np." Lambey coos.

Baby bread? What kind of stupid name is that. That's like lower than low. To use capitol language.

Gaga reaches forward and in one swift motion pulls my robe off of me.

"Give that back!" I almost whale.

"We have to get you ready!" Lambey yells back.

"So get me ready in the stupid robe! I don't care if I'm ready or-"

"We care dear. We do. Please stand still so we can look at you properly." Gaga's meat dress swirls sickeningly around her skinny ankles.

I realize there is absolutely nothing I can do, that for what very well might be the first time in my life, I am totally helpless. I am pushed and prodded into the baths, several of the layers of my skin peeling away. I feel sore all over as they pat me dry. I am allowed to finally put the robe back on, thank heavens. Suddenly, I don't mind that it's sheer nearly as much as I used to.

My stylist soon comes swaggering in, shoeing the team out with a casual flick of his hand.

"I'm Florio Swantable, your stylist!"

"Lyme Soriova." I reply.

"Ms. Lyme. What shall I do with you, huh?"

"Dress me up as a rock?" I suggest mockingly.

"No…No…No… Yes!"

"What?"

"You are going to be dressed up as yourself. The fruit!"

"The fruit. I'm going to the opening ceremony dressed as a lime, the citrus?"

Well, well, someone's brainy."

"Oh god. I will be the laughing stock of Panem by the end of tonight." I mutter.

"Don't worry, Owatheese will be dressed as a blueberry." He reassures.

A lime and a blueberry, just fantastic, right?

Gaga comes in a few seconds later, sporting a huge green and yellow balloon like dress that fits my head inside a stem and my hands inside the leaf pockets. The only part of me that the audience will see is my lime green eyes and my lips. It's like wearing a suit of armor. When the other two women come in baring a cup like shape I'm horrified to find that it snaps on to my dress and I will literally have to be rolled in a shopping cart, a bright pink one at that, down to the chariots. As I look through the eyeholes in my costume, I realize I got the better deal. Owatheese looks like a hamster in a hamster ball, the clear bright blue ball showing his struggles to get out of his bright orange shopping cart. He flips over and over in his ball, and I can't help thinking that the crowd will love him like this. But we both look

Bizarre!

Author's note: I didn't get a single review for the last chapter! Not nice! Please review this one. I know this was a lot of backstory, but I enjoyed writing about it. I also love Phivy so you're likely going to see a lot of her in the next few chapters. I plan to do one chapter about opening ceremonies and training, one about the interviews, and then the arena! If you have any suggestions please tell me. So yeah, bye.

/Gia


	3. Chapter 3

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Chapter 3

I am pushed unceremoniously into an elevator and a woman in a purple sparkling dress hits the button. As soon as the doors click open, I am rolled towards the line of chariots. I'm shocked to find that Owatheese and my costumes are not in fact the most ridiculous. The girl from district one, Violet, seems to also be going with the style the tribute after the name approach, and is painted pure violet. All she is wearing is a tiny violet dress that has no sleeves and goes about to her mid thighs. Her hair has woven violets in it, and she has trains of flowers, both real and painted all down her sides. I can't say that she doesn't looks stunning and absolutely ridiculous all at once. Her district partner also is styled after his name, Arrow, and has a black suit with archery weapons designed all over it. Where Violet's costume looks beautiful, his looks over the top, like he's trying to be a tough guy, but overdoing it just a bit. I guess I shouldn't comment though, seeing my own costume. When the children from district four appear, they look simultaneously younger and older than they did on the reaping review. The girl is draped in gauzy green and blue material, and the boy is naked except for a pair of shorts patterned with fish. There stylists are obviously trying to make them seem older, both tributes being around 14 or 15, but in my eyes, they have failed. The girl in fact looks even younger. My opinion suddenly changes drastically, for her body is that of a child, no doubt, but when I look the girl in the eyes, her haunted green gaze is that of a woman twice her age. She stares at me as if she has seen every bit of pain the world has ever dealt, and in a way, she probably has.

I find it almost difficult to hold the girl's gaze, and take the opportunity to stop looking at her when my prep team lowers me down into the horse-drawn cart.

Owatheese is lowered down next to me, and I glance pointedly from him to the golden haired girl from four. He returns my look questioningly, so I very obviously glance at the district four chariot. Finally he seems to understand, looking back at me several seconds later.

"I changed my mind. She's in. But let's see what she's actually capable of in training tomorrow." Owatheese says in a low voice.

Violet and Arrow are pushed on the cart in front of us so we immediately break off our conversation. Owatheese and I may hate each other, but for now, we our each other's only ally. That is, until we speak to districts 1 and 4. Violet tosses her gold hair behind her shoulders, turning to look at us.

"I thought district 2 was stonework. But fruits are tasty." Her dry tone is lost on no one.

"Unfortunately for you, Cocoava, we aren't edible." I retort with a smirk.

"That seems hard to believe." Her district partner sneers at me.

I scoff, not even replying to his ridiculous assumption.

"I don't care how muscular you look, 2, you're just a little girl aren't you."

I spit at his feet then. "Your blood will stain my blade long before you have a chance to reverse the situation, District 1."

He shudders slightly as I turn a furious glare on him. Owatheese notices and laughs mockingly at the other man's weakness. "So that means you're backing down from a little girl, wonder what we can do with you in the arena."

I pointedly turn my back on the situation, deciding that my time is more strategically spent studying other arriving tributes. The pathetic tributes from districts 6 and 8 appear, and their stylists have obviously gone for the young and pitiable look this year. I see the slightly better looking tributes from district 9, and though they are dressed as stalks of wheat, they still move with pride and confidence. District 7 have the same confidence, and I make a mental note to keep an eye on them in the arena. I realize that though most of the people before me are little more than children, some of them have grown up with as many hardships as I, and that it wouldn't be smart to underestimate them.

The last to arrive is district 5, the little boy clinging to his stylist. The girl leaps on to her chariot with surprising ease, and with more difficulty, her partner follows suit.

The district 1 cart rolls out, breaking off my observation. Soon after, my cart is yanked forward. The Capitolites throw bundles of bright flowers on me and the still-trapped-in-a-hamster-ball Owatheese. I stare fearlessly ahead, though I think my outfit somewhat abolishes that persona. Violet waves prettily, and district four stare ahead, much like Owatheese and me.

As the horses come to a halt, our most esteemed leader—President Nols—steps out to look down at us.

"What an honor, to represent your districts. I am truly happy for you all. I hope the odds be ever in your favor! But before we go-"

I stop listening after that, observing the cameras instead. Just as I predicted, districts 1, 2 and 9 are the only ones with more than a split second of screen time. It's clear that the capitol is looking at their appearance, and not into their eyes, for I know if they'd done so, districts 7 and4 would be there too. Is the capitol really that shallow?

This year might look like a batch of children to them, but I know better. Like my mentor said, never underestimate your competitor's.

We are paraded inside, and I immediately shed my costume, wearing the tight black pants and t-shirt that my Stylist put me in. Owatheese opens the ball he's been incased in, and joins me by the elevator. I push the button impatiently, glaring at the door when it refuses to open. Finally, it obliges, and silently slides open. The district 4 tributes step in after me, and the doors close behind us. I'm about to hit the button to go up to our floors, when the girl from four speaks.

"Well, District 2, allies or not?" I'm taken aback by her direct attitude, but keep my composure.

"Let's see what you can do in training." Owatheese looks condescendingly down at the girl.

"I think I can do a lot more than you can."

"Well, shouldn't potential allies know each other's names?" The girl's district partner extends his hand and Owatheese takes it. "Arah," the boy says.

"Owatheese."

Reluctantly the girl from four holds out her hand to me. "Oclivia."

"Lyme."

Oclivia pushes me roughly out of the way and jams the buttons for our floors. I stare down at her, she reminds me of Finch in some ways. Her confidence, her air of superiority, and most of all, how she looks so much older than she really is despite how short and slim she is. When the lift doors open and I stride out, I can feel her eyes on my back.

After we watch the replays of the opening ceremony, Lero, Carry and Owatheese decide to get some sleep, leaving me and Phivy alone.

"So?" She demands as soon as Lero closes the door.

"So what?" I retort, pretending not to know what she means.

She actually growls at me then. "So how are the other tributes? Personality wise. Who will be your competition?" She says.

"I'm not sure about District one, but Oclivia is fighting."

"Oclivia? The girl from four right?" Phivy clarifies.

"Yeah. Her district partner I doubt will though."

She clicks a few buttons on a remote, and the district four reaping starts up. There blue haired escort draws Arah Zarin from the bowl, and he comes out of the 15 year old section. She pulls Oclivia Taliova , and she comes from the girls 15 year old section. So far, nothing seems unusual about this reaping, except for the lack of volunteers, but they don't have one every year. Phivy stares tight lipped at the screen.

"What's wrong?" I ask her.

"Last year Mags said that in district 4, they decide a whole year in advanced who goes to the games. The kids this year are way to young. Why isn't there a volunteer? Why didn't I notice before?" She speaks more to herself than to me. "Wait here. I'm getting Lero."

I wait for less than a minute before both come back in, and in a rush, me and Phivy explain what happened both at the ceremony and before that. Lero stays silent for so long that I see Phivy open her mouth to speak before he finally answers.

"I don't know, but my guess is that one or both of them are great, and I mean great, fighters who scared away all the volunteers. Or everyone could just really hate them and want them to die." He keeps his eyes on Phivy as he speaks.

"But they're barely fifteen!" Phivy replies, sounding disagreeable but not all out angry like she is with our escort.

"Ask one of your plentiful district 4 friends." He says halfheartedly.

"Yeah," she nods once at me, before heading out. "I'll ask tomorrow, I'm meeting Ciraya anyway."

Ciraya is the latest hunger games victor, from district four, so I guess she'll be one of the district four mentors this year. Hopefully Phivy will be able to figure out what in Panem is going on then.

"You should get some sleep too." Lero motions towards the door.

I see nothing better to do, so I head towards my room, only stopping once to grab a cookie from the dining room.

That night I wake up from possibly the worst nightmares of my life. I see Finch throwing knives, but the targets are everyone I have ever loved or even just liked—including Finch herself. I see blood, blood rain. I step in quicksand that is made of choking fragments of bones. I twist and twist the skin on the back of my hand until I know there'll be a bruise. Then finally, whipping away tears I didn't even know I shed, I fall into a peaceful, or at least slightly more peaceful sleep.

The first thing I hear when I open my eyes is what sounds like a super speed jack hammer.

T-T-T-T-tap! Oh. It's just Carrie coming to wake me up. I role my eyes at the door before dragging myself out of bed.

"Time to rise and shine!" Carrie sings. She has got to be the highest pitched soprano around.

"I'm already up. And I shine even in my sleep!" I say the last part in a sarcastic tone that even Phivy would be proud of.

"Okay! See you at breakfast then!"

Her high heels tip tap down away from my door, and I take what is definitely the longest shower I can remember ever taking in my life. I select a training outfit, still fancier than the one I wear at home, but an improvement over everything else in the capitol so far, and pull it on.

When I finally arrive at the breakfast table, both my mentors look extremely tired. I can see bags under Lero's eyes, and Phivy looks as if she didn't sleep for more than an hour or two at the most.

"All right, what's your strategy in training?" Lero asks, without so much as a good morning.

"I don't know, intimidate the others, and check out what they can actually do?" I say shrugging.

"Okay. Owatheese, what about you?"

"Same. What else would I do?"

"You could always decide to work on knot tying and fish hook making the whole time?" Phivy suggests sweetly.

"Not really my style." Owatheese smirks.

"Have something to eat, everyone. Do you know how wonderful the cake is?" Carrie says, primly taking a bite out of her cake and rubbing the corner of her mouth with the spotless white napkin on her lap.

"Okay. I'll have some cake." Phivy says in that way she has. When Carrie offers the plate, Phivy purposely takes some cake from one of the other plates that adorn the table.

"What time is training at, anyway?" I ask, with a slight smile at Phivy's amusing, if childish, antics.

"10:00 sharp! We should start getting ready now." Carry instructs, beaming.

And that is how I find myself standing in front of the lifts at 9:00. We stand there for a whole hour before our most beloved escort decides it's okay to go down.

"We don't want to make a bad impression by coming early, do we now?" She says with another of her sickeningly sweet and sincere smiles.

When we get down, about half the tributes are there already, and the other half trickle in more slowly. At precisely 10:00, just like Carrie said, training starts. The head trainer, Elava, gives us a quick pep talk, before releasing us to train.

Oclivia heads straight for the Kamas, and Violet goes to the archery station. Arah goes to the tridents, and Owatheese and Arrow go to the sword fighting station. I assess my options before moving swiftly to the knife throwing station. I stay there, hitting every bulls eye for at least an hour. Then, getting bored of the easy routine, I go to watch Violet shoot. She's quite good actually, but there isn't always a bow in the arena, so I decide to wait and see what she can do with other weapons before speaking to her again.

I then watch Oclivia's skills. Her Kama work is better than anything I've seen at home, and when she moves to throwing knives and hits every single bulls eye, in even less time than I took, that she is definitely going to be an ally both to respect, and maybe even to fear. Not that I'd ever tell her that though.

We throw knives together for a while, before she heads off to spears. She's not quite as good at this, only throwing from the ten yard mark, but it's impressive none the less.

I stop by at the hand to hand and sword fighting stations before we are called for lunch.

The tributes from the career districts sit together, making the first few steps towards an alliance. However, lunch is still an altogether awkward affair, and Only Arah seems to want to make conversation. Arrow answers him most of the time, and occasionally Violet or Owatheese will give him a very clipped and rudimentary answer.

Oclivia and I keep our mouths firmly shut until Arah asks about how Oclivia likes the weapons in the training center compared to the ones she uses at home. She glares at him for a moment before replying shortly.

"They're very different, but both are enjoyable to use." Oclivia and Arah certainly aren't loyal to each other then, that could be useful to know.

Not saying that district partners usually are, but there have been a loyal pair once in a blue moon. Arah doesn't get the chance to respond to Oclivia before we're called back in, though I wonder if he would have inquired further or just dropped it?

During the afternoon I shadow all the boys, noting how Arrow fights with maces and clubs more than bladed objects. Arah does okay with the tridents, but his talent is the ax. Even though he's from district four, and expected to excel at tridents, I'm not really that surprised. He isn't nearly a bulls eye mark like his district partner is, but he's good enough for me with that ax.

I don't bother following Owatheese, I've seen everything he can do more than enough times. At 4:00 we are allowed to leave. I pass Violet and give her a slight nod of approval as I pass, before heading swiftly up to level 2.

After another long shower, I head to the dining room, not really expecting anyone else to be there. I'm surprised to see Phivy sitting there, with a heaping basket of chocolate truffles in front of her. She eats about 3 per second, before looking up at me.

"Hi." She says. She awkwardly pushes the chocolate at me, gesturing at a chair for me to sit in. I oblige, but make sure to sit in the chair next to the one she motioned to, just to tell her that I won't do everything she says. She smiles slightly at this, before grabbing a fresh basket of truffles and starting to inhale them at a rate that would have made me throw up a long time ago. I eat a couple before asking the question that's been bugging me for the whole day.

"You know how you said you went to meet Ciraya," I start.

"Oh yeah. She said that the boy who was supposed to volunteer was killed, and they didn't have enough time to replace him. And apparently Oclivia was to go in next year, but the girl who was to volunteer this year got cold feet or something. I guess she didn't see the point of going in when Oclivia wanted to anyway."

"How does Ciraya know all this, anyway?" I ask slightly mystified at the whole process in district 4.

"She's Oclivia's cousin. Different last name so no one knows."

"If training was anything to go by, then Oclivia is every bit as fierce as Ciraya." I recall Ciraya's ease and skill at using almost all the weapons. She ended her games in just seven days.

"Ciraya says that Oclivia's even better." For the first time I feel a twinge of fear. I push it away then, quickly popping a chocolate in my mouth to distract myself. Phivy smiles slightly.

"You may be from the fiercest district in Panem, but everyone's allowed to be scared once and a while, you know." She stretches, picks up her basket of candy and leaves the room, guessing that I want to think of what she just said on my own.

Authors note: Please review. Who do you like, who do you hate? Tell me!

/Gia


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